


3 minutes

by Raspberyl



Category: Skullgirls
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:30:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raspberyl/pseuds/Raspberyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many ways to mentally prepare yourself for a match, some of them a little more unorthodox than others. AU in which Beowulf doesn't quit wrestling after beating the Skull Heart. Beowulf/Cerebella, NSFW, one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3 minutes

Beowulf didn't usually need to mentally prepare for a match like most of his colleagues did. Yoga, meditation—All techniques his rivals used to improve their focus and that his new manager, André, had made him try out too in an ambitious attempt to improve his nearly flawless performances, yet failed miserably. Wrestling was something that came natural to him, so Beowulf could jump into the ring after several hours of meditation or right after eating a 3-foot giant sub and come out victorious all the same. Concentration, focus—They were all concepts that got simply lost on The Wulf, so the success of his matches only depended on his innate talent to beat things to a pulp whenever needed.

That was why, much to his manager's chagrin, friends and family (and the occasional crazy fan who managed to sneak past the guards) could visit him right before a match without any real consequence other than a slap in the wrist.

His current visitor, however, got no slap in the wrist. The slap was a little lower, actually, on her behind, and it was accompanied by a kiss on the lips.

"Your beard’s kinda itchy."

"Oh. Yeah, was thinkin' about shaving it, actually."

"Nah. It's itchy, but I kinda like it. 'Sides, it makes you look freakin' awesome."

Beowulf’s chest rose with satisfaction born from both the ego stroke (which, as big as it was, it always needed a little more love) and Cerebella's lips on his neck. He had only been seeing the acrobat for 3 weeks, yet it seemed like that was all she needed to know exactly what made him tick. Sitting on his lap and with her arms lazily sliding from his shoulders to his chest (and a second later, his stomach,) she left a faint trace of green lipstick over his jaw, making a muffled sound of approval when he squeezed her butt lovingly.

He looked at the clock on the wall.

7 minutes.

"Oh, crap."

"What?" Wondering if that was prompted by her doing something wrong, Cerebella halted her pampering and pulled away from him, only to get pulled back to receive a short peck on the lips.

"Nothin', just that the match's about to start and I should get moving already."

"Oh..." She looked at the clock too, then back at him. "But you still have a good 7 minutes left, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I don't wanna risk being late—Gotta respect my fans, you know." She didn't break apart again, however, her hands already back on his stomach and her lips on the tip of his nose.

"You don't have to be out yet though... Stay with me for a bit longer."

"Bella, don't do this agai—Whoaaa there."

A grin pressed against his lips and she tilted her head slightly, fluttering her long eyelashes at him. "Hm?"

"You—You've got that weird look again."

"Weird look?" She echoed, a tone of fake cluelessness coloring her voice.

"Yeah, the one you get when you wanna _do_ _stuff_."

"Oh." Her smile only grew wider. "I thought my hands down your pants were what was giving me away."

"W-Well, yeah, that too." He stuttered, uncomfortable—Though 'uncomfortable' wasn't exactly the word, as her fingers were on places that the Trinity had made to be touched and feel anything _but_ uncomfortable. "But, uh, while I'm _always_ up for your hands down my pants, we don't have time for them to stay down there for too long, y'know."

Cerebella shrugged. "What I have planned should only take a couple of minutes."

"No... no, no, no."

"Aw, c'mon...!"

She pouted when he took a hold of her waist and easily lifted her off of his lap, promptly placing her on top of the vanity in front of them. He should've known that wouldn't be enough to discourage her, however, her hand quickly catching his wrist as he stood up and started walking towards the door. In a beat, she was pressed against his back, her arms sneaking around his torso and her chest heaving against him as she very cunningly took advantage of one of his few weaknesses: _lady parts_.

He looked at the watch again.

6 minutes.

"It'll only take a bit, I promise." Beowulf scoffed haughtily.

"Bella, you know I last way longer than ‘a bit’, right? No way I'm gonna be done in 'a bit'—whatever that is, anyway."

"Oooh? Is that a challenge?"

"Hey, I said—Whoa, hey, whoa, whoa, okay...!"

Before he could present a better defense than just running towards the door with Bella wrapped around him like a koala, she sneaked one of her feet between his legs, making him trip and fall against the door. That would've been a victory for the wrestler if she hadn't turned him around in a second, trapping him between wood and very supple flesh, slapping his hand when it tried to reach the doorknob.

"You only last as long as you do because _I want you to_." She declared when they both caught their breath after the struggle. "You’d last way less if I decided to get serious."

"Pff. Don't insult me like this."

“'You wanna bet?”

Beowulf pouted as he nervously glanced at the clock again. "I don't think so—I—it's gonna disturb my, uh, my focus, ya know."

“I thought you didn’t even have a 'focus'." She said, looking past his obvious lie. "Are you scaredI’ll prove you wrong?”

His eyebrow twitched.

“Y-You…”

"Not much of a Big Bad Wulf, are you?" She taunted, her hand sneaking down his underwear once again, and though Beowulf exhaled what was a mix of frustration and impatience, he didn't try to stop her like before.

"... Man, people say I'm stubborn all the time but I think you might be even worse than me."

"Is that a yes?"

He looked over at the clock for the umpteenth time, lips pressed together into a thin line.

"You've got 5 minutes."

"Heh. Good boy."

Cerebella snuck her free hand behind his neck to make him lower his head, planting a congratulatory kiss on the corner of his lips. Her feet abandoned the ground a second after as Beowulf easily lifted her up so he could properly kiss her back, briefly pulling at her lips with his teeth when they parted to take a deep breath.

"'Kay" She said dazedly, her face flushed. "4 and a half minutes."

"Mh-hm." He placed her back down, looking at the clock once again as if his fans' disappointed faces were printed on it. The pleasure from the kiss nearly completely vanished at the reminder, but Bella's comforting warmth on his chest kept it from disappearing completely. "If I'm late, you're the one who'll have to explain to the Wulfpack what happened. " He grumbled, and Cerebella, who was already on her knees, rolled her eyes.

"Suuure I will."

" _And_ you'll explain André"

"Mh-hm."

"And you'll walk around the house naked for a week?"

This time Bella raised an eyebrow, then smiled. "You're wasting my time."

 _So close,_ he thought, tensing up when she easily undid his belt in a movement that was practiced and very carefully memorized. She lifted two fingers, pointed at his eyes then pointed at herself.

 _Watch me_.

Normally, it was a request that was easy enough to follow; Bella was a sight to behold no matter what she did, after all. But with his fans cheers weighing on his ears and the ever-present ticking of the clock reminding him that those cheers could turn into sour booing in only a few minutes, it was hard to concentrate on what she was doing; even if the way her emerald lips gently wrapped around the head of his cock looked fascinating, even if he couldn't stop following the purposefully slow movement of her long eyelashes that cast a shadow over her pink cheeks.

... Alright, so maybe he wasn't having such a hard time focusing on her, after all.

The acrobat made a small noise when she took him in her mouth, breathing through her nose as she tried to swallow him whole—a feat she could only manage when he wasn't hard, and even then, only barely. She let out a whine when the head of his cock brushed the back of her throat, sending vibrations all the way up to his spine and making Beowulf's hand jump to the doorknob, looking for something to hold on to like some sort of reflex.

"Christ, Bella..."

She hummed, then pulled back again, the heat of her mouth abandoning him only for a second while she moistened her lips with her tongue. She carefully placed a wet kiss on the head of his cock, then took it in her mouth again, lazily dragging her tongue over it then pressing against the tip, forcing a growl from deep within his throat. With that, her fingers sneaking under his shirt and guiding his hips into a slow thrusting motion, and the delighted look in her eyes whenever his breath hitched, he was hard in what could be considered a world record.

The clock on the wall was forgotten.

"Okay... that's... Whoa—Heyyy..." There went his idea—whatever it was—when her hand firmly took a hold of the base of his dick. Cerebella smiled smugly, licking her green lips again.

"Hm, you can praise me all you want later."

She avoided mentioning the time limit—Last thing she needed was to remind him of his awaiting fans to make him tense up all over again. Instead, she softly caressed the shaft with her fingers, as if to give him a break from the initial intense rush of pleasure. It was only for a moment, though, and the tenderness of it only made her mouth engulfing his cock a second after feel overwhelming. He let out a noise of approval, a low groan that was animal-like and grew into another louder, more primal sound when she sucked long and hard. What her mouth couldn't cover was taken care of by her hands, her warm skin gently cooling off the areas that were over-stimulated as she licked the base of his cock and lower, kissing his belly and what few skin was exposed of his thighs before returning to the main event.

As much as they were both enjoying themselves with her tender approach, though, time was running short. Deciding that a more aggressive strategy was due, she took a hold of his hands and placed them on her head, smiling daringly before whispering:

"C'mon. _Fuck me_."

Beowulf gulped.

How—How in the hell was he supposed to resist _that_.

She opened her mouth like an offering and relented control to him—Though only in theory, because she was still the one pulling the strings even as she feigned helplessness when he thrust in, careful not to go all the way to keep her from suffocating. Warmth—unbearable warmth that was agonizing to leave behind when he pulled out, and he pushed back in right away, a short, cute whine coming from her and accompanying every thrust as he hit the back of her throat over, and over and over again. It was hard controlling his own strength as he lost himself in the sensation; and it didn’t help that her hands curved over his sides, encouraging him to let loose, to fuck her harder.

"'Don't wanna hurt you, Bella..."

She gave him a reproachful look as if scolding him for worrying too much, and the grip on his hips grew stronger, pulling and forcing him to go faster, deeper—

"Ffffuck—I'm g—I'm gonna—"

"Beo, where 'you at?"

Oh _shit_ —Not now, not _now_ —!Beowulf's hand flew to the doorknob and held onto it like his life depended on it, keeping his agent from opening the door. When he couldn't get it to open he knocked instead, impatient.

"'You there!? Dude, we only have one minute left for the match—you're never late! Come on out _now_!"

"Oh—Oh... just... wait... a second!" He growled between gritted teeth, his hips twitching as Cerebella didn't bother to stop, instead speeding up and making him use his other hand to catch a loud, agonizing moan. His manager, completely oblivious to the situation, continued knocking on the door insistently.

"No! You need to come out this instant!"

"I-I'm coming—I really am—In so... many freakin' ways, just—just wait...!"

"30 seconds, man—That's all you've got!"

'That's all I need' her eyes seemed to say, saliva and pre-cum dripping from the sides of her mouth onto her chest as she moved faster than she could swallow, her tongue working around his cock quickly, the telltale pulsing of the flesh announcing the incoming end.

"Bella—!"

Her name fell into a hoarse, bark-like groan as he came, followed by a growl born from the depths of his throat, and Cerebella swallowed eagerly until his body finally stopped quaking. Only a couple of drops rolled from the corner of her lips and stained her chest white, and she playfully touched them as she pulled away, a long string of saliva still connecting her lips to his cock. She opened her mouth then and showed off the remaining spunk on her tongue like a trophy before swallowing it as well, then smiled impishly.

“Heh. That was fun.”

“...”

Beowulf's lips parted: He wanted to say _something_ —Maybe comment on how hot she was on every goddamn way—Or how much she rocked his world—Or express how amazed he was that she did manage the feat of making him finish in less than 5 minutes. But Cerebella was still very aware of the time limitation and didn’t give him time to say a word, her hands quickly working to fix his pants and shirt, smiling all the while:

“I said you can praise me all you want later—I deserve it. For now, you gotta go out there and explain _nothing_ to the Wulfpack because you’re right on time—You won’t have to explain a thing to André, for that matter. And…”

She kissed his cheek.

“You’ll have to walk around the house naked for a week.”

The wrestler opened his mouth again and inhaled deeply.

Then, a single word:

“‘Kay.”

She giggled and turned him around, opening the door and smacking his ass on the way out.

“Go get ‘em, tiger. I’ll be out there, cheering you on. And hey, who knows, maybe after this we can finish what we started?”

Beowulf only nodded, still dazed, and walked out to where André and his hundreds of fans were waiting. The man gave him an impatient look, and gestured toward his watch mouthing ‘5 seconds!’ before pulling him towards the ring by the arm.

“Why didn’t you come out—’The hell was that, man!?”

“I… uh.”

Beowulf blinked.

“I… I dunno.”

He was aware it was a weak reply, but he was still struggling to take in how much had happened in only a couple of minutes. The deafening cheers of his fans reminded him of what he had come to do in the first place, though, and soon enough he let out a howl that made his pack go wilder. Smiling wide, he looked back at André one last time before jumping into the ring:

“But it was _HYPE!_ ”

That match went down on the books of pro-wrestling as one of the fastest matches in history, only lasting 3 minutes before the King of the Ring jumped right back out of it to run to his camerino to do what his fans speculated was a brand new form of training. Whatever it was that he was doing, though, André begged him to do it before and after every match ever since.

Beowulf didn’t have to be told twice.


End file.
